Best Regent Poems
Painting by Edvard Munch, 1895: "Moon Light"
your soft hand trembles in mine
no words are spoken
we observe our ascending full moon
as we have every month for forty years
empyrean empress rises to her throne
queen regent of the night sky reigning
over brooding blue bay and melancholic mountains
as predictable as death
we again sit in our folding chairs
whispering under our favorite tree
anticipating the coming light show
enjoying her long bridal veil
shimmering in the existential ripples
a nocturne of nebulous narratives
stopping at the shore line
stopping
she inevitably will descend
the shroud of shadow will cover the land
comforted that tomorrow will awaken
to a resplendent sun
and next month will bring another full moon
the doctor said three weeks
so this will probably be our last
your soft hand trembles in mine
no words are spoken
written 11 July 2023
Categories:
regent, death, love, love hurts,
Form:
Ekphrasis
English is not a language
one can ever get ahead of--
there are just too many words!
Like 'ludic; for example: meaning
playful, in the sense of spontaneous,
without real purpose....Soooooo,
how come I never came across
Little Ludic in over sixty years
of reading hundreds of books
in my beloved mother tongue,
the language I love,
the language I married.
Even spellcheck never saw it,
or else why underline little Ludic
in red, like a criminal of some sort
who needs a good sorting out,
a spell in word prison perhaps?
If one but takes the time to look,
one can find sweet Ludic laying low,
hiding quietly in the BIG FAT ONE,
the Oxford Dictionary!
Lord and Regent of all word books.
Ludic lives there with his cousins:
Ludibrious and that stuffed shirt,
Ludibry, and the handsome,
macho Ludrico ( who is no doubt
from the Italian side of the family)
and of course, the far more famous
Ludicrous, a celebrity who seems to
want all the spotlight for himself.
Words can be so very selfish too....
Categories:
regent, humorous, language,
Form:
Free verse
I love a lovely maid—a Flower
of the sun-baked land of Brazil;
ageless, she by clock's every hour
makes the time be perfectly still.
Though fair and gorgeously pretty,
she longs to be known and adored
for her heart and inward beauty,
where love is felt and richly stored.
She's queenly and wears a lush crown,
a regent who sits on her throne;
a Rose, she's praised and of renown,
and prized for her rare grace alone.
Too selfless and giving and kind
to disappoint, she lives to care
and gives alms to the lame and blind,
and for me always says a prayer.
Categories:
regent, beauty, eulogy, flower, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme
Cleopatra, the last Pharaoh of Egypt,
could have had Caesar or Anthony as a co-regent,
but rather than putting such power in either man's grasp,
she put leadership decisions in the path of an asp.
Categories:
regent, betrayal, conflict, power, relationship,
Form:
Clerihew
Written: September 10, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Mounts daydreams in the azure bay.
An eerie sway casts halos in the night sky.
As a sparkling moonbeam sprayed moon.
It is the lyrical refrain of the world, hewn.
Drenched in the moonlight odoriferous embrace,
The moonlit reverie grabs its place.
Whispering chronicles of zeal and desire,
In the nebulous shadows, fealty will transpire.
The moon, a regent on its celestial throne,
Ascends the empyrean heights, shown
Its resplendent blaze dabbled in the night,
Splashed across the sky with splendor and might.
A symphony of ripples waltz upon the bay,
As moonshine shimmer casts a cynosure display,
Reflecting the existential ephemeral mysteries,
A nocturne of dreams, amorous for centuries
In this moonlit flash, a queen of midnight.
Splashes the globe with her translucent light.
Her canvas, speckled with paint, is a delight.
Wisdom for forlorn lovers on the starry night.
She queries the stars from her throne in the sky,
And bequeath stories on distant moon rays.
So placid to the grasp, yet sparkling in Gestalt,
And limns on the moon's sketch to impart art.
Categories:
regent, analogy, appreciation, confidence, light,
Form:
Rhyme
Unkosi Rholihlahla Mandela,
born into the Madiba clan in the village of Qunu
grow up in Mvezo in Umtata,Transkei
Dalibhunga, the prince of the Tembu tribe
son of umama Nonqaphi Nosekeni
son of Nkosi Hendry Mphakanyiswa Gadla Mandela
father of South African freedom
ward of Chief Jongintaba Dalindyebo
at the Great Place in Mqhekezweni
acting regent of the Thembu nation
boy from the Thembu royal homestead
icon of peace and justice.
sun that rises in the grim atmosphere
commander-in-chief of Umkhonto we Sizwe
dedicated himself to the struggle of the African people
South Africa’s greatest son
the greatest leader of our time
the giant of the South African history
the Son of Africa’s children
uBawomkhulu,
the man who pioneered the new patriotism in this unique country
the principal of his destiny
the commander of his soul
he represented hope and freedom
through his dignity, through his triumph, he inspired millions
the father of our nation
He who will live on in the hearts & minds of people throughout the world
the one who cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society
he who taught us reconciliation
he who embraced his enemies
one of the brightest lights of our world has gone out
a great tree has fallen
the son of a Tembu tribal chieftain is gone
Siyakuhlonipha
Tata Sizokukhumbula
Hamba kahle Tata!
Categories:
regent, best friend, brother, father,
Form:
Free verse
The mist in Regent Gardens air
awakes a single rosebud there.
Her scent drifts past Trafalgar Square -
England’s summer has begun.
The rising sun above the Thames
shines brighter than a crown of gems;
peeks through the panes of Buckingham
until the day is done.
Saint James Park invites the dawn
as sunbeams nudge the regal lawn.
Grass blades spread their arms and yawn:
"Good Morning, Summer day!"
Big Ben chimes a fond embrace
whilst daybreak warms his noble face.
Tower Bridge can sense sweet grace -
Summer’s song is on Her way.
Chiffchaffs adorn the royal parks
as children’s voices trill like larks.
Blooming dogwoods deftly bark
in praise of Summer’s song.
Purple lilacs perfume the breeze.
Lombard's merchants aim to please.
Harrods unfurls green canopies
to shade the heated throng.
Piccadilly Circus burns so bright.
Vibrant neons illume the night.
A merry moon beams with delight -
enthralled by Summer’s spell.
Bells of St. Paul sing me goodbye,
as o'er the River Thames I fly.
My heart begins to sigh, as I
bid my London Summer - farewell.
Inspired by:
Summer Enchantment Rhyming Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Karen Neary
Categories:
regent, nature, sea, seasons, upliftingsummer,
Form:
Rhyme
The thousands of words pain of imagination which improvised the parch of life to itchy sky, the foods is mudslides to the sadden caskets of corpses lying unattended, in the morning where they monitored to acidic
The ceramic of thoughts parches of imagination group of fact finding gluing by the fire exchanging stories, history of lives so fresh in their memories like the vultures covering the cloud of helmed of fathers.
Now the ends of Ebola to new era of mountains of nightmare hiccup of the hills and valleys at the center of cry, the shadow of death dubious actions
Invitation of mourners lining up, water meant to entertain throats shining drink that cuts the trunks of trees and swept mud rolled down to the true generation of tomorrow to basement of fallen heroes to the feeling of lofty debris of death.
The nation shaded their only treasures to the rubble of hills granites of pillows, the rapture of once called city of our own to the leak of the sky cloud of corpses waiting for identification to sound of euphemism to insignia on their faces
The media molested the dignity of our nation pride to the fence showing the world the pain was buried down to the earth, the name they painted pictures cloud of degrading your neighbour to the media dilute of understanding and lack of online etiquette and allotment shame on you.
Buried in the shape of valley swallowed by Cinderella of waves, banged the hope mama ‘Salone’ draining to the drench to the hope of nation to naught swirl rivers of cry tantamount billions memories hijacked the love of one another to anoint bodies lying down to brink of calls that never been answered by the valley of Regent shroud to plastic bags.
Categories:
regent, dark, emotions, tribute,
Form:
Didactic
In memoriam: Queen Elizabeth II died on 8 September 2022. May she Rest in Peace.
Gracious and a constant all my life,
not bending to public opinion o’ strife,
your sharp wit could cut like a Bowie knife.
With statesmen you did meet—had an excellent seat.
Paddington Bear, so sweet—your compassion, not beat.
You’re honoured as a national treasure,
never resorting to artful pressure:
Deus ex machine per Measure for Measure.
You danced with those freed—gifted a French Guard stead.
You have lived by a creed—example to us indeed.
Remembered as beloved mother and wife,
seventy years on the throne: quite a feat.
There’s no more need of any embrasure.
For your esteemed family, hearts now bleed.
Poetic form: Suzette sonnet.
The title of the poem refers to Paddington Bear saying ' Thank you Ma'am ... for everything...' when he 'took tea' with HRH in celebration of the Planinum Jubelee in June 2022.
___________________________________________________________
© SUZETTE SONNET—SUZNET for short (9 April 2021)
A 14-line sonnet of alternating triplets and couplets, concluding with a quatrain.
Rhyme scheme: aaa (b1–b2)(b3–b4) ccc (d1–d2)(d3–d4) abcd
The triplets are iambic pentameter [*/|*/|*/|*/|*/].
The rhyming couplets are iambic hexameter and include an internal rhyme, namely [*/|*/|*/—*/|*/|*/] (alexandrines).
Concluding with a quatrain in iambic pentameter that summarises the poem in a rhyme scheme set by the triplets and couplets.
The volta is at L9. OR the couplets may define pivots within the poem, ie a tilting or shifting in the mainline of thought. When the latter is employed, it needs to be uniform throughout the poem.
Categories:
regent, death, funeral, grief, in
Form:
Sonnet
“A dying people tolerates the present, rejects the future, and finds its satisfactions in past greatness and half-remembered glory.”
“A strong man makes a weak people. A strong people don’t need a strong man.”
John Steinbeck (Nobel Prize 1962)
for the DEAD in the Struggle for EELAM
I
Ages from now, let it not be said:
Blood spills only as brother dies.
Ages from now, let not peace be bled
By chances lost now in sighs.
To the high nor low slams the door
To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean way!
Truth your only key, don’t ever slay!
Where the elephant roams un-tethered free,
The familiar myna will echo carefree
Words of yore buried in sacred memory:
One breed, one species carved in ivory.
No greater fear simmers in the lowlands
Than the stealth of brother against brother;
No higher disdain festers in the highlands
Than vengeance lying in wait for the other.
II
Think not of the promises made and broken,
Think only of the time lost and forsaken.
Every hour, every day, a life blown or taken;
Every month, every year, a people woe-driven.
To the high nor low slams the door
To him who seeks the Law and more.
Take, take the Golden Mean path!
Truth your only key, never the lathe!
Think of Prince Paranirupasingham who to succour
King Jayavira’s queen, to Kandy, fled his throne:
Abandoned to court intrigue, schemes and wiles encore:
A princely retreat, a physician’s penance alone.
First governor, then regent, the last Jaffna King Cankili
Learnt best the conqueror's cruel art of slaughter;
Then, fired by the local converts' iniquitous treachery,
Revolted too late, his head the butt of lofty laughter.
Think of C.P. Ramanathan the island’s cause to defend
Sailed over choppy seas past wild submarines
To raise the nation’s flag in the court of the Empire’s den,
His homeward chariot drawn by one peoples’ teens.
(...continued in Parts 3 to 5)
Categories:
regent, political, brother, lost, people,
Form:
Quatrain
Saints have third eye
They have seen to The Almighty into themselves !
Killers have third eye
They have seen to the regent of Death into themselves !
Even so , killers are blind !
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
Categories:
regent, philosophy, wisdom,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Why it is so hard to live here…
When your heart beats are still there.
Why it is so hard to say goodbye,
When someone close to you is always nearby.
Why it is so hard your love to forget,
When you know you are only your heart’s regent.
Why it is so hard for one to believe,
When you know in life few things stay and rest leave.
Why it is so hard to bear pain,
When you know that some day it will come again.
Why it is so hard for one to sacrifice,
When you know that you don’t have to pay any price.
Categories:
regent, imagination, love, sympathy,
Form:
Rhyme
"Ink-Spatters"
By Rachel Heffington
I'm a poetess, an authoress, a gal of story-tell
And I haven't all the fashion of a perfect Southern Belle
And I mayn't be the prettiest or smartest in the land
But I've got a world inside a world inside of my right hand.
Oh I've only got to grasp a pen and all my dreams spill out
Like a tea-pot with an inky-rinky-dinky sort of spout.
I have children by the droves and a husband with a nib
And my baby wears an inky-spotted, blotting-sanded bib.
I am Queen and I am regent, I am rogue and I am cad
And these tumble out my finger-tips onto a paper pad.
Yes I wield enormous power over characters and plot
And my duties: they are many, and my worries: they're a lot.
But I wouldn't change a bit of it--no, not a single line
For I think that being Authoress is really rather fine.
So I'll keep my ink and paper and my ratchy-scratchy pen
And I'll scribble out my stories till I come upon The End.
Categories:
regent, funny, happiness, imagination, on
Form:
Terrorism is a villainous violence,
Used by those who disagree,
Bloodshed breaks the somber silence,
Between those who feel unfree.
However, when one disagrees
With how the system works,
They are targeted by an intelligent team
Of thieves who wear white wicked smirks.
Welcome to America, a republic of United States,
Where your pick-pocketed dollars are spent,
On a government gang who uses hate,
To murder with money that from you went.
The true terrorists are the ones who wage,
Wars for oils and hegemony,
Inciting their civilized slaves with fear and rage,
With methodical theory made by Machiavelli.
Over three hundred million of us,
Have been convinced,
That five hundred monsters must,
Act as a regent prince.
We are taught in their public schools
What they want us to think,
About how to see those who rule,
In this prison where freedoms freely shrink.
Taxes and rules taken and written by carnivorous imbeciles,
Deepen the pockets of those who've stolen from the rank and file.
The dragons drag their drones which drop from atop the empyrean:
Trickled missiles made by smiles of self-proclaimed humanitarians.
Like candy into a trick-or-treater's unsuspecting pillowcase,
The surprise drops unto the bullseye on a beaming face.
Oblong bombs obliterate their targets who're blasted into oblivion,
Checked off a list of might-be murderers by gangs of the governing.
Whose old faithful champaign bottles burst in bellicose victory,
As the unelected republic jigs with their jolly old valedictory.
True terrorism is to manipulate with police and military budgets,
Paid for by those who fall victim to the brotherhood's bludgeon.
We must fight the totalitarian status quo with knowledge and speech,
So with our thoughts we can remove the parasitical political leech.
Now unsheathe the might in hidden in thy mind,
So we may leave terror where it belongs: behind.
Categories:
regent, america, anger, freedom, political,
Form:
Rhyme
138
138
CharlaXFabels
CharlaXSonnetta
I
There is my holdings my vineyards in Franco
The eye waves flies off of his wine
While making millions of euro dollars
While ewe aer always reining Qyeen
The kisses lemone oh so sweet
Only in my fantasy wine is never sour
Away the hour enthrall love ewe
CharlaX Millions making fables true bend
Holding love above the real life
Holding love inside the inside
Holding love upon the morrow
Holding love without mye sorrow
Holding love to be the marrow
Holding love above the dollar.
II
The grapes were used though lemone added mix
A thing unheard in all the land
The regent came to me anon to ask
CharlaX why the wine would sec sit
Tis for the love violette eye bend
The lemone fragrance doth remind the eye
The wine is never bitter then
The love much more imported avec bien
Love holding more than love can tell
Love holding odoring the smell
Love holding like the fetterments
Love holding like a taste of her
Love holding only love anon
Love holding after we aer gone.
III
There is a mission now upon the corner
Near the water they do stay there
All the homeless wander there they live safe
They have laoaves fishes sec vino
No one hungars no ones cold
No one misses world so bolder older
No worldly pleasuer can compare
Working harder now than ever fables quake
Hold me loving hold me closer
Hold me loving je embrasser
Hold me magistrate ragon Qyeen
Hold me merry happily long
Hold me sensually loving
Ruling the vineyard sun love song
Categories:
regent, dedication, life, love, social,
Form:
Sonnet